


Homebody

by White_Lupin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Every story needs a conflict, F/M, Fair warning there's some angst coming up, I started this as a coffee shop au but it spiraled and now it's Extremely Serious, coffee shop AU, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Lupin/pseuds/White_Lupin
Summary: The Doctor has finally made the decision to change the future, no matter what the Time Lords might think. He can't lose Rose. With a new life ahead of him, he gets to work.But, for the Doctor, there are always complications.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Changes

He hated this feeling. He listened to it every time before, this sinking feeling that pulled at his hearts when he fought against Destiny. But this time, there’s too much at stake.

The Doctor had begged Rose to go back to the TARDIS. It took a lot of convincing, but she listened. The feeling was the worst then. He could barely keep himself going.

Every time before, he gave in. He had faced punishment from the High Council before, but he would have been killed for thwarting Destiny. There was no Gallifrey anymore. No High Council. He had no rules to live by, except those he put in place for himself. That feeling told him that even if, according to the Time Lords, he was indisputably, unfailing wrong about this, he was morally right.

He pulled the lever to open the void. He hung on for dear life. Not just for his anymore, but for Rose, too.

~ ~ ~

The door of the TARDIS opened. Rose finally took a breath, leaning against the console. She felt like she’d been holding it for the last two hours. The Doctor gently closed the door behind him.

He walked forward, not saying anything. He took Rose’s hands. The skin around her nails was bleeding, from where she’d picked at it while waiting for him.

“I have a question,” the Doctor said. It’s too serious for him, Rose thought, bothering to ask for permission to say something to her. Whatever he’s thinking escapes from his mouth with no input from his brain.

“What is it?” Rose asked. The Doctor runs a thumb over the back of her hand. She can’t help but shiver.

“Will you marry me?”

~ ~ ~

They make a deal. He’ll be around, for the rest of her life. But he can’t sit still. Never can. Six months at a time, he’ll be around, then he’ll leave. Come back some time later, but when no time at all has passed for Rose. He can’t bare to lose her in the span of a human lifetime. Sixty more years, maybe. He has so much more than that.

So, breaks. He doesn’t know how long they’ll be. Enough time to make different friends, while he’s away. Rose agrees to this. She wishes he could stay all the time, but knows he can’t. Knows this is for the best.

He heads off. Promises to be right back. But he takes his time. He hasn’t had a family, a wife, since before he left Gallifrey the first time. He wants to settle down, have a real life that isn’t running all the time, but that feeling still pulls at him. The feeling that this isn’t how things are supposed to go. He knows well what was supposed to happen. Rose was supposed to help him defeat the Daleks. She would have died, or been sucked into the void, or trapped in that other universe. He never would have seen her again, once he closed the gap between worlds.

Dying would have been better than that.

He set the TARDIS’s destination. The last place he knew Jack was. He and Rose, settling down, they need money. He never has money, but Jack certainly does. Even if he doesn’t right now, he can get the Doctor what he needs.

He hated this feeling. He’s doing the right thing, but everything is off. It was silent, in the TARDIS. No hum of engines. No crackling from the neural network talking amongst itself, below the floor.

She knows what he’s done. She doesn’t like it.

What other choice did he have?


	2. The Bar at the End of the Universe

A few years back, Jack found himself looking for a job. His options were limited. He couldn’t and wouldn’t go back to the Time Agency. Every government on Earth was on the lookout for him. A vague warning from the Time Lords kept him out of two thirds the jobs in the universe, and another quarter were offered by the Doctor’s enemies.

He never should have had that fling with Romana.

Jack ended up in one of the few neutral territories around, serving drinks. It wasn’t a bad job, but it was getting tedious. He’d taken pit stops before. Whole lifetimes spent on the run from whatever he’d made angry last. Years here and there in captivity from the Doctor’s enemies. Mostly Daleks. Eventually they stopped trying to kill him and tried to harness whatever Rose had done to him. At least she’d done a good job of whatever it was. The Daleks couldn’t crack it.

The bar was always busy. The Bar at the End of the Universe. A subsidiary of the other, more high class place. No time warp here, though, just a dive bar in a desolate corner that the Daleks and the Time Lords both stayed away from.

Jack leaned against the bar across from a customer. Not human, but looked it. He pulled out a glass from underneath the bar and poured her another water.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” Jack said. He pushed the water across the bar and took her empty glass.

“No, first time,” she said, smiling. “But I think I’m probably here for the same reason as you.”

“What’s that?”

“Running from something.”

Jack laughed. He stirred his drink. It wasn’t worth it to have alcohol anymore. He couldn’t get drunk. This was a god awful combination of various things that did the job almost as well, purely because it was so disgusting it made him dissociate.

“You’re a friend of the Doctor’s, right?” she asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for him, I think,” Jack responded.

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Ten. You’re farther along than me?”

“Twelve. I’m Alex, by the way.”

“Captain Jack Harkness. Good to meet you.”

The two of them shook hands. Jack recognized the name, but he hadn’t met them before. They were one of the few other Time Lords that had gotten out.

“Still going by Captain, then?” Alex asked.

“I take respect where I can get it.”

Jack looked up, checking the time. The bar was empty.

“Huh,” Jack said. Alex turned around, too, then turned back to Jack and frowned.

“What do you think?” Alex asked. “Good or bad?”

“If it’s just the two of us here? Bad.”

Both of them jumped at the sudden appearance of another man, just next to Alex, his trench coat billowed out and hair as tall as he could possibly get it.

“I’m not that bad,” the Doctor said.

Jack leaned across the bar and planted a kiss on the Doctor’s cheek. “I disagree,” Jack said.

The Doctor suddenly grows serious. “Probably shouldn’t do that anymore, Jack.”

Jack’s face falls, but Alex grinned widely and leaned their head on their hand, elbow against the bar.

“News about the wife, eh?” Alex asked.

“How do you know that?” the Doctor asked, offended.

“Last time I met you, you were angry and Scottish.”

“Ah, the future,” the Doctor said, letting a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t tell me too much.”

“I’ve blocked most of it out,” Alex said, disgustedly. They shiver. Jack can’t help but laugh.

“Never thought you’d get hitched, Doctor,” Jack said. He pulled a bottle of whiskey from underneath the bar - his own private stash for when he had folks over in the little apartment in the back.

“I can’t pay,” the Doctor said. Jack shrugged and poured three glasses of the stuff. “Look, really-”

“You’re drinking it, and you’re drinking it for free,” Jack insisted.

Alex took their glass and swirled it around. Jack was surprised by the absent look on their face as they thought. The other Time Lords he had met had their quirks. The Doctor fidgeted. The Master’s thoughts were almost exclusively limited to how well he could kill you, and he had that look in his eyes. Romana bit. Sometimes her lip. Sometimes someone else’s. Alex might as well not have been there while they thought, staring off into the distance, only marked as alive by the vague energy that came off all Time Lords.

“You’re not here just to tell us you’re getting married,” Alex finally said. They took a sip of their whiskey and launched into a coughing fit. The Doctor waited patiently for them to finish.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” the Doctor admits. “I came looking for Jack.”

“Finally!” Jack said. He downed the half-glass of whiskey in one swallow. “I’ve been waiting for a trip.”

“Ah, no, Jack-”

Jack sighed. “Time to repay my favors, huh?”

“I could use some money.”

“And you think I have that?” Jack scoffed. “Hon, I’m working in a bar.”

“You always have a backup plan.”

Alex snorted. “That’s you, Doctor. The psychological discoveries Freud could have made from you.”

Jack laughed. “To narcissism being called the ‘Doctor Complex’.” Jack held up his empty glass, and Alex toasted him.

“Seriously, Doctor,” Alex continued. “I’m fairly sure the three of us have a combined net worth of twenty pounds.”

“Is that enough for a flat?” the Doctor asked. Jack took a moment to consider if he was being serious. Probably.

“Ah, no, Doctor,” Alex answered for him. “Twenty pounds is a cheap drink in a fancy bar.”

“Oh.”

They all sat there for a moment. Alex sitting on their stool, occasionally taking a sip of the whiskey and trying not to cough again. The Doctor, refusing to sit down, sometimes pacing around, sniffing his drink but not actually drinking it. Jack fiddling with his empty glass, trying to ignore the tension in the room.

“Why not do that thing with the lottery?” Alex finally asked.

“Rose would kill me,” the Doctor says.

“Get a job,” Jack suggested. The Doctor shook his head. Jack sighed. “You’ll need one if you’re settling down, anyway.”

The Doctor ran his hands over his face, through his hair. “Yeah, probably,” he said. He finally sat down at a stool, eyes drifting between Jack and Alex. “Still, I need something to get started.”

Alex sighed. They stood up. “I’ve got some you can take. Enough to buy a house outright. Just be careful. I don’t want you getting investigated by the government.”

“Really?” the Doctor asked.

“Yeah. You’re good at making people feel guilty.”

“My specialty.”

Alex disappeared down the stairs to the parking garage. Jack watched as they left, regretting not making a move before the Doctor showed up. He had the distinct feeling he wouldn’t see them again for a while, and three out of four was a disappointing scoreboard.

The Doctor picked himself up from the stool. It was the first time in a long time Jack hasn’t seen him look tired. There was a brightness in his eyes that made him look a few hundred years younger.

“Come on,” the Doctor said. His hands went to his pockets. He hadn’t touched the whiskey.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Come on,” the Doctor said again. Jack let his face break into a smile. He vaulted over the bar and followed.


	3. First of Many

The house next door appeared one day while Martha was at work. No warning, no building, it was just there. A few days later, the coffee shop showed up. By the time a week had passed and her new neighbor, the tall, lanky guy in the trench coat who was responsible for all of this, was standing outside staring at a rake, she decided that it was worth it to meet him.

Martha descended the stairs from her half of the house. Her house mate was fine, but she wasn’t interested right now. The man had picked up the rake by the time she got outside. He was holding it upside down.

She walked over, but didn’t leave the sidewalk. He was fairly close to the road, anyway.

“Hello,” Martha said. The man looked up. There was a puzzled look on his face that Martha had no idea what to do with. “Do you need some help with that?”

“What? No,” the man responded. He prodded the ground with the handle a few times, as if to demonstrate that he, in fact, did not need help. Martha wasn’t convinced, and he could tell. “Do you know why lawn tools are so inefficient?”

“No, why?”

“Ah, no, see, that wasn’t a rhetorical question, I’m genuinely curious.”

Martha was quickly losing interest in the conversation. “Ask an arborist, I don’t know.”

“Mmm, maybe.”

He was clearly losing interest, too. Martha made a move to change the topic. “You live here alone?”

“No.” The man had started raking, badly. At least he had it the right way round, Martha thought.

“Man of few words, you.”

“Ohh, not usually. But it’s a time of great stress, neighbor!”

“Martha. Martha Jones.”

“Nice to meet you, Martha Jones. I’m th- John. John Tyler. Yeah, nice to meet you.”

“Don’t know your own name?”

“Took my wife’s.”

“Oh, that’s quite nice, actually.”

John shot her a look that she wasn’t quite sure people were capable of. She took a step back so she was on the far side of the sidewalk, in the strip of grass between it and the road.

Martha squinted up at the darkening sky. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I think. You make a good cuppa?”

“Eh? Oh! Yes. Actually- wait, no. Jack does, though.”

“You might be the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

“I’m counting on it.” John shot her a smile. The brightest smile she’d ever seen.

_If he wasn’t married-_

Martha shook her head to clear the thought. For Christ’s sake, she wasn’t a home wrecker.

“See you then,” Martha said. He waved absentmindedly and stared down at the tiny pile of leaves he’d made. When Martha got back to her bedroom window, he was still there.

~ ~ ~

Martha left early the next morning to stop at Torchwood. An odd name for a coffee shop, and an even odder place for it, tucked between other buildings and down an alley. It was lucky she went this way to work, or she never would have found it.

The bell on the bright blue door rang as she opened it. There were only a few other patrons, one engaged with the handsome barista. When the bell rang, the barista looked up and smiled at her. Almost as bright as John’s, but not quite.

“Doc said you’d be in here!” the barista yelled across the shop to her. He was American. Martha pointed at her chest. The barista nodded.

“You mean John?” Martha asked, reaching the counter. The barista nodded again.

“Yeah, John, sorry. I’m Jack, by the way. And you, beautiful, must be Martha?”

Martha couldn’t help but blush. He talked so sweetly. She giggled.

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” Martha said. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the other barista, whacking him in the back of the head with a spoon.

“Lay off it, would you?” Both of them were American. Weird.

“Come on, Alex, saying hello to customers never hurt anyone!” Jack objected.

“I promised to make you quit it, and I’m sticking by that. What can I get you, Martha?”

“Just a coffee,” Martha said. Alex shooed Jack off to make the coffee, while they stayed at the counter.

“Sorry about him,” Alex said.

“I didn’t mind, really.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

Alex scooted over to take another order, leaving Martha at the bakery cast by herself.

The shop was small, but bigger than it looked from the outside. There were mismatched tables scattered around, and a shelf filled with books, old books, by the look of it, against the back wall. She barely had more time to look around before Alex was holding her coffee out over the counter.

Martha took the coffee, but her finger brushed Alex’s. They clearly noticed, looking very, very nervous for a moment.

“You’re freezing,” Martha said, as if Alex didn’t already know that.

“I was messing with the cold brew,” Alex quickly said.

“You were also touching the hot cup. Let me see your hand.”

“You should get to work, huh?”

Alex tried to leave, but Martha darted out and grabbed their wrist. Her hand naturally found its way to take Alex’s pulse, though she was more concerned by the fact that the barista felt like a corpse. Colder than that, even.

Martha frowned. Alex laughed nervously. Even Jack was holding his breath now, stopping his flirting with another customer.

“What the hell?” Martha whispered. Alex took the chance to pull their wrist free. Their hands went directly in their apron pockets.

“Don’t tell, huh?” Alex said.

Martha floundered for a moment. She was going to be late, but would that matter if she was busy dealing with a woman who somehow had two heartbeats and internal temperature regulation that went the wrong way? Alex put a finger over their lips.

Martha cradled her coffee in both hands and left.


	4. Tyler and Jones

There he was. Again. The house next door, the weird little coffee shop with… who were they? His friends? And now he was here, sitting in one of the hospital beds, smiling at her.

“Hello, Martha!” he said. Doctor Stoker’s eyes flicked away from the patient and to Martha.

“Do you know him?” Stoker asked.

“My neighbor,” Martha said. She tried to put as much sorrow into her voice as she could. She wanted a minute alone with him.

“Ah. Best not hang around then. A doctor will be with you shortly, Mr. Tyler.”

“Doctor Stoker?” Martha asked.

“Yes, Miss Jones?”

“I just want a minute. I’ll catch up.”

Doctor Stoker was clearly about to object, but something stopped him as he glanced at John. “One minute, Miss Jones.”

Martha nodded. She waited for the other students to leave, then grabbed John’s wrist before he could object to it. Cold, just like Alex’s. Two heartbeats. She dropped it as quickly as she’d picked it up.

“Who are you?” Martha hissed. “You and your shop. You’re freezing, you have two hearts, so does one of your employees- are you an alien?”

“Yes,” John said. He didn’t even bother to whisper. “Does that bother you?”

“Well-” Martha stopped. “Hang on, you’re really just admitting that?”

“No point in denying something you’ve already figured out,” John said, shrugging. “You can call me the Doctor, if you know all this! That’s my real name.”

“What kind of a name is that?”

“Your minute’s up, Martha. Might want to hurry.”

Martha checked her watch. He was right.

“We’re not done here,” Martha hissed. John- the Doctor, nodded seriously.

“’Course not.”

~ ~ ~

She found herself waiting impatiently for her lunch break. Martha usually hated lunch. The microwave was so far out of date that it only heated up the outsides of things, the fridge kept food barely colder than room temperature, and the caff was somehow even worse. She dreaded to think of what they fed their patients.

But, this time around, she almost had a lunch date. John - she wasn’t going to call him the Doctor until he’d earned that title, in her mind - had left the hospital earlier. He wandered up to her in a hallway, still in that trench coat and sandshoes, and told her to meet him at Torchwood for some kind of lunch. He’d explain everything, he said, after adding some nonsense about static charge and reversing the polarity of a teleport.

Martha didn’t think there was anything to explain. The second the word “alien” came out of her mouth, she had promptly decided that she had gone mad and would check into Psych when her shift was done.

Still, here she was, outside that little blue door, waiting for someone to open it. It was locked. She had knocked.

It was Jack. He waved her in, smiling in a vaguely sarcastic way. He pointed her to a table, where there was already a sandwich and coffee waiting for her. Alex sat in one of the benches along the wall, flipping through a book. They glanced up at Martha, gave a thumbs up, and went back to their reading. John popped out from a back room, almost tripping over a chair two separate times on his way to Martha’s table, and sat down in the opposite chair with a lemonade.

“I won’t lie,” Martha said. “Whatever you’re about to say, maybe don’t say it. Just, please, try to convince me that I haven’t gone mad?”

John shrugged and took the tiny umbrella out of his lemonade. “Maybe you have.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Martha said. “You’re just a hallucination. Showing up next door to me, at a coffee shop, at my work like some kind of stalker!”

Jack stifled a laugh. At a dirty look from both Martha and John, he turned back to cleaning the espresso machine.

“If you’re already convinced you’re mad, there’s not a lot I can do for you,” John said. He was oddly relaxed about all this, while Martha was fuming. “But, put that aside for a moment.” John leaned in. “If you really think I’m an alien, shouldn’t I have a spaceship somewhere? Don’t you want to see that?”

“Now you’re picking on me.”

“I’m really not.”

“Alright. Say I believe you. What then?”

“We both go on with our lives, I suppose.”

“That’s it?” Martha was bewildered. “What about your wife? Is she an alien, too?”

“Oh, no. Human. That’s what I like about her.” John smiled. He took a sip of his lemonade. Martha suppressed a shiver. The worst part was that he noticed, and his smile dropped as he leaned back. “You should come over. For tea. Dinner. Games? Do people still play Charades? Rose would like you.”

“That’s your wife?”

“Yep.” The p popped out of his mouth. Martha could tell he was trying not to laugh at himself. “Only person that’s ever made me settle down. And, you mentioned that I showed up where you work. I didn’t mean to, honest. There was a signal coming from the hospital, extraterrestrial in origin, but I stopped it, so it’ll be safe to go back.”

“It wasn’t safe?” Martha had her pager out and in her hand. “We should evacuate, we can’t leave patients-”

“No, no no no, it’s safe now.” John reached out and gently pressed her hands, and the pager, to the table. “I turned the teleport off. Really, come round for tea, would you?” John checked his watch. “Your lunch break’s over.”

He swept up from the table, trench coat billowing like there was a breeze just for him. Martha sighed. She downed the rest of her coffee and picked up her untouched sandwich.

“Tell me this,” Martha called. John turned around, eyebrows raised. “If I make a habit of hanging out with you, am I safe?”

“No.” John tucked his hands in the pockets of his coat. “In fact, you’re probably less safe than if you’d never met me.”

“And Rose wants to live like that?”

John’s smile was completely gone now. Jack and Alex both pointedly became more engaged in their tasks. “She doesn’t know any other way to live.”

Martha huffed and pushed the door open, but she didn’t hear the bell clang again behind her until a moment too late. Alex sauntered up next to her as Martha left the alley, book tucked against her side.

“You can say no,” Alex said.

“Can I?” Martha spat.

Alex was silent. They reached the end of the alley. Martha turned back to them.

“Okay, maybe not,” Alex said. “But there’s a reason for that, and it’s a reason I’d love to explain, but I don’t think you’ll understand yet.”

“I’ve made it through med school,” Martha scoffed.

Alex took a breath. They glanced back down the alley to that blue door at the end, then grabbed Martha’s arm and pulled her onto the sidewalk on the main road.

“The Doctor is an alien. So am I. But you already know that. What you don’t know is that we’re called Time Lords. Sort of the police of time travel.

“We both went to school on our home planet. They taught us to identify cracks in time, tipping points, points that should never be tipped. You know about what happened at Canary Wharf?” Martha nodded. “The Doctor tipped one of those points. Fixed points, they’re called. Rose was supposed to die there, but she didn’t, because he changed it.

“The Doctor thwarted Destiny. He saved Rose, and we’re going down a different path than the Time Lords established centuries ago, but that doesn’t change the essential beats of life. The web of Destiny is doing its best to fix what he did to it. I don’t know how, but you’re a part of that. Probably the next person to travel with him, after Rose.”

“So…?”

“So, Destiny tries to repair itself. It was Destiny that you two would meet. Even if things are a little different than they should have been, Destiny is keeping you together. The house, the coffee shop, work. Even if you move away, or never come back here, you can’t run away from what was supposed to be.”

Martha breathed deeply. She had to calm down. She smoothed out her shirt and looked down the street. When she turned back to Alex, they were clearly waiting for an answer.

“Some alternate universe version of me is traveling with him, all around the universe, in his spaceship?” Martha asked. Alex nodded. “And because of that, I’m never going to get rid of him.”

“Not until Destiny is done with the two of you.”

She was calm. She would have to be calm about this. “Alright. I can live with that.”

Alex smiled. Pulled Martha into a hug. As they jogged back down the alley, back to the shop, Martha leaned against the wall and rubbed her eyes.

What the hell was going to happen to her?


	5. The Prime Minister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs ahead for some swearing and violence.

Sweet Rassilon, cabinet meetings were boring. Here he was, Prime Minister of the entire bloody country, and he couldn’t make himself do anything because there was no Doctor around to tell him off.

Was this depression? The same bloody feeling the Doctor whined about all the time? Ugh. He wanted to hurt someone. Poisoning one of the miserable politicians might make him feel better. Sending a Cyberman after one. He could convert one, and have him murder the rest. Maybe a more hands on approach. Strangulation.

“Mr. Saxon?”

_Whatever it is, you ape, I’m on a rather tight schedule and don’t want anything to do with you unless it involves framing you for-_

“Yes, Tish? Do you have those PR reports?”

“Oh, yes, we’re already working on your speech this afternoon.”

Tish was pretty enough. A little bit of plastic surgery could fix the imperfections. A good gag on her so she’d shut up. He was fond of her like he was fond of someone else’s pet. A good distraction, and he’d rather not have one of his own. Yet he was stuck with her and her insufferable stories about her family.

“And,” Tish continued, much to his disappointment. “I’ve got a letter for you. Dropped on the mat earlier.”

He snatched the letter from Tish. Disgusting handwriting, but recognizable. Captain Jack Harkness, secondary bane of his existence, just behind the man’s boss.

“Anyone you know, Mr. Saxon?”

_Wouldn’t you shut up you bloody imbecile, if you weren’t useful I swear I’d kill you right now, wouldn’t even think twice about it, one fucking zap of a vaporizer and your entire family would be miserable, I can’t believe-_

“Ah, an old friend,” he said. He did his best to hide the disgust in his voice. It worked well enough. Tish didn’t look fazed.

Dearest Master, the letter started, (I’m disappointed we never found a more personal word, but I suppose everyone has their kinks,) I’m writing to let you know we’re all back in town. The Doctor doesn’t know you’re here, yet, but that could change. I think he’d actually be glad to see you.

On the subject of the Doctor, he’s married, now. Stop by some time. Say hi.

At the bottom of the letter was a hastily scratched note in Gallifreyan. His old Commander’s handwriting. He cursed under his breath and crumpled up the letter, but he’d already read it. Three words. Don’t you dare.

“Throw this away, Tish,” he said. He tossed it over his shoulder at her. She stumbled slightly to catch it, but managed.

“Ah, Mr. Saxon, I hate to tell you, but I’m not your personal assistant.”

_Good lord, the bitch won’t stop. I do need a fucking gag. Earplugs for me. Poison. A bloody nuclear missile so I can take out the whole city. I’d even take a gun at this point. One of the humans’ pathetic slug shooters._

“Oh. Sorry, Tish.”

_Apologizing! Lord and Master and their bloody Prime Minister and I’m apologizing to a human. I’m starting to hate myself._

Tish looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She sighed.

“It’s okay. You pay me more than enough to throw things away occasionally. I don’t do much around here, anyway.”

“Would you rather have a job as a PA?”

“I’m alright, thanks.”

“Let me know,” he said.

He reached his office and opened the door. Another fucking politician waiting for him inside.

_What the hell are my options? Call the Doctor? Make him watch me do something properly awful for once in forever? Keep doing this? Talk to fucking Jack?_

No. His options right now were to have this meeting or ditch entirely. Considering the consequences, something he never let himself be held to, that left him with having the fucking meeting about education funding.

He wanted this, but he was going to kill himself before reelection.


	6. Tea

Martha was on the front step of her neighbor’s house five minutes late. There were already two unfamiliar cars parked outside. A sweet smell filled the air. And she had brought store-bought scones.

She knocked. A pretty woman with blond-dyed hair and a tartan apron answered the door, smiling curiously at Martha with her startlingly round face.

Martha held the scones out at arm’s length. The woman - Rose, probably - held back a laugh.

“Did John invite you over?” she asked. Martha nodded. She was normally more assertive than this, what was wrong with her? Rose took the plastic package from Martha and waved her in.

Immediately, something odd struck Martha. The front door was at the far right of the house. There wasn’t room for anything to the right of it, but there was a mudroom, several feet long, with cubbies and coats and shoes, and a door at the far end. Leading somewhere else. Martha had the stomach-churning feeling that it wasn’t to the lawn.

Rose gently pushed on Martha’s shoulders, trying to keep her moving, but Martha wouldn’t budge. She stepped into the mudroom. It didn’t feel any different from the hallway that was supposed to fit in the house.

She took a few steps towards the mysterious door in the already mysterious room. She reached for the handle, but Rose grabbed her shoulders more forcefully and pulled her away.

“Good thing John invited you over tonight,” Rose said, leading Martha back into the hall. “We were holding a sort of house-warming party anyway, with some of his friends.”

“I don’t understand…” Martha managed to say, mostly to herself. She couldn’t draw her eyes away from the door at the other end of the mudroom. “Aliens and houses that are bigger on the inside…”

“Right, seriously, come on,” Rose insisted. She grabbed Martha’s hand and dragged her away from the mudroom. “I know it’s a lot, but the Doctor wouldn’t have said anything to you if he didn’t think you could handle it.”

“Oh, come on. I’m a med student and people don’t introduce me as ‘the doctor’. What’s he a doctor of, anyway?”

Rose bit her lip. “Good question, actually.”

“He doesn’t even tell his own wife?”

“He has got other things on his mind,” Rose said. They finally came out of the hallway into a dining room, with a kitchen on the other side of the half-wall. Rose gave Martha a slight push into the dining room. There were two others already sitting at the table. Before Martha could say anything, Rose interrupted her. “Right, this is Martha. Martha, this is Sarah Jane and Alistair.”

Martha was speechless. She was still reeling from everything else that was going on. Aliens, a house that was bigger on the inside, and two perfectly sensible government officials sitting around like this was normal.

“I should go,” Martha said. Rose grabbed her before she could turn around and pushed her into a chair.

“He’ll be home in a few minutes,” Rose said to them. “I’ll get these scones on a plate.”

Martha genuinely had no idea what to do. She was nobody. A med student at a not very well maintained hospital. Alistair - General Lethbridge-Stewart - he was in charge of the entire bloody military. Sarah Jane Smith might be even more famous than him; she had been a journalist with the BBC before Canary Wharf. After that, well, everyone knew, didn’t they?

Rose came back with the scones. She huffed and pulled out a chair for herself. “Good lot for conversation, eh?” she said. “Am I going to have to enforce a get to know you game?”

Sarah Jane flushed red. Martha gripped the seat of her chair even harder.

“Fine then,” Rose continued. “I’m Rose, I like adventure and a good cuppa. Sarah Jane?”

“Ah, Sarah Jane,” Smith said. “I like- Rose, what are we doing?”

“Comforting someone else he’s traumatized, I think,” Rose huffed.

The front door opened. In a few moments Trench Coat - John - the Doctor - came smiling down the hallway.

“Sarah Jane!” He said. He swept her off her chair into a hug. “Good to see you! You too, Brigadier. Lost control of UNIT, eh?”

“I got promoted,” Alistair managed, before he too was pressed into a hug.

“And that’s General to you,” Sarah Jane said. The Doctor immediately sidled back from the hug.

“You?” he said, his voice rising nearly an octave. “In charge of the military?”

“Just behind the PM, yes,” Alistair said.

The Doctor sat down in one of the two empty chairs, propping his feet up on the other one. “Who is prime minister nowadays? Last I knew it was Harriet Jones.”

“A man called Harold Saxon,” Sarah Jane said. She pulled up a picture of him on her phone, and handed it off to the Doctor. He put on a pair of reading glasses and squinted at it.

“I like his policies,” Martha interjected.

“Really?” the Doctor said. He took off his glasses and handed the phone back to Sarah Jane. “Where’s he MP for?”

“Well he’s-” Sarah Jane stopped. She looked to Alistair. “You know, don’t you?”

“For…” Alistair also trailed off.

“Martha?” the Doctor asked. “You sound like you have a good idea.”

Martha thought for a moment. “I don’t think he’s MP for anywhere.”

“Has to be, doesn’t he?” Rose said.

They were all silent. Martha chewed her lip. Alistair had a phone out and was typing just about as fast as he could. Rose, the Doctor, and Sarah Jane sat around looking concerned.

“How come I didn’t think about that before?” Martha finally said.

“Perception filter,” the Doctor responded, like that made sense. “Trying to hide who he is. But who would do that? It’s not Earth-level technology.” He popped his glasses on again and took Sarah Jane’s phone. A silver device in his hand emitted a low whirring noise. He pointed it at the phone. “I’d have a guess, but he’d never take somewhere over so quietly. He’s dead, anyway.”

“Oh.” Sarah Jane rubbed her eyes. “No, he’s not. K9 found a TARDIS a while back. I thought you had finally gotten around to fixing the chameleon circuit, but…”

The Doctor’s eyes went wide. He slowly set the phone down on the table. Very slowly, he asked, “are you sure?”

Sarah Jane brought her fingers to her mouth, just barely not chewing on the nails. “Yes, yes I- I’m sure, Doctor.”

The Doctor was up from his chair in a flash, heading back to the door. Rose followed him, and so did Sarah Jane, pausing only to pick up her phone. Martha, not wanting to be left alone in a room with a military general, ran after.

When Martha slipped out the door, Rose and the Doctor will already halfway down the street. Sarah Jane was working on sitting down on the front step.

“Where are they going?” Martha asked.

Sarah Jane looked up at her. “Downing Street, I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this started as a nice little coffee shop AU. The next chapter... took over. Fair warning. So yes, this is staying in the "The Doctor saves Rose" universe, but let's see what happens.


	7. Downing Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mental illness, violence

He was somehow completely unsurprised to find the Doctor there after thinking about him so much. And one of his lovely little friends! Two of them, he discovered with a moment’s wait. He leaned back in his office chair with the absolute confidence of a man that knew he was about to be completely screwed over, and also knew he could do nothing about it.

“What in Rassilon’s name are you doing here,” the Doctor growled.

He smiled with a vengeance. “Whatever I want, darling.”

The blond scoffed. “Darling?”

“You’re going to tell me you never went on a few dates with your childhood sweetheart?”

The Doctor flushed red. _Congratulations, me._

“Can somebody explain something to me one time today?” the other one, the not-blond, said. He squinted at her. Familiar, somehow. Either he’d met her or a relative before, or all humans looked alike. Probably the second.

“A cute blond and an idiot!” he said. “Together they’re a normal human.”

“Would you stop it?” The Doctor demanded. He smiled even wider.

“Trust me, Blondie and Not-Blondie, all three of you would be dead already if I wasn’t exhausted from all the duties of Prime Minister.” He examined his fingernails casually, but he could feel his hearts beating in his chest. Every tick angrier he made the Doctor was a personal victory. Picking on his companions and gloating served to make the Doctor even redder. But, deep down, he was terrified of the Time Lord standing across the desk from him. The war hero. The war criminal. The man who would let his family and best friend die to kill one Dalek.

“What’s your plan, hmm?” the Doctor asked. “Taking over this planet? Or just humiliating me?”

“You know me so well,” he chuckled. “But no. My TARDIS broke down, and I thought I might as well do something fun.”

“You told me you were the last one,” Blondie hissed at the Doctor.

“He’s supposed to be dead,” the Doctor said in reply, folding his arms.

He laughed. “So’s our sweet commander, but look at them, prancing about the place and sending scribbled notes on other people’s letters. Look, Doctor, can I get you some tea? Chamomile? You seem uptight.” He smiled again, this time letting the psychic energy leak out of the corners of his mind into Blondie and Not-Blondie’s brains, just a hint of sharpness in his teeth. Blondie took a step back.

“Hold on,” he said, leaning forward, pointing at Not-Blondie. “I know you, don’t I? Your sister, Tish, she works for me. Doctor, wouldn’t it be a shame if something happened to her?”

_Why am I doing this?_

“Stop it,” the Doctor spat.

“Get the humans out of the room, and we can talk.”

The Doctor frowned. He took Blondie’s face in his hands.

“Rose,” the Doctor said, “Wait for me outside. If I’m not out of here in ten minutes, get the Brigadier.” He turned to the other one, Not-Blondie, Tish’s sister. “Martha, I’m sorry for getting you involved in this. If you trust me at all, run.” He kissed Blondie, and the two of them left.

Just him and the Doctor.

He let that smile spin in the Doctor’s brain for a moment. Just to mess with him. Then, he let the facade drop.

“How’ve you been?” he asked.

“Leave,” the Doctor said. “Get in your TARDIS and leave Earth alone.”

“I’m serious when I say my TARDIS is broken down. Whole thing’s kaput. Drive stacks are broken, it won’t recharge, and the damn brake doesn’t turn off, but at least the chameleon circuits are still working.”

“Fix it.”

“I don’t have the parts.” He shrugged and turned away to examine his nails again. All these years of lying had gotten him into a tricky situation. “If you need, I can open my mind and you can prove to yourself that I’m not lying, but that seems like it’s going too far, doesn’t it?” _No, shut up. Don’t offer that you miserable idiot._

_But really, one little peek wouldn’t hurt._

The Doctor shivered. He was almost disappointed that no matter what he did, the Doctor was still going to hate him. That had been his goal for the longest time, but he was trying to do better. Some Doctor-filled nonsense was leaking through from the future and actually giving him a sense of morals.

_Disgusting._

“Look,” he continued, “How can I prove that I’m honestly, truly, doing good by the people of this country?”

“You can’t,” the Doctor hissed. “Look at you. What are you doing? I’m still waiting for the monologue about your half-baked scheme to take over the planet.”

“I don’t want to,” he sighed. He leaned all the way back in his chair. “I’m bored of taking over the world. What’s wrong with putting some good back into the system?”

“It’s not you!”

“You’ve never known what I’m like!” he shouted. There it was. The fire and fury that came with madness. He found himself completely lacking the inhibition he’d grown over the past few months. His hand snapped to the disintegrator in his pocket. Hovering over it, but not touching it. Would he actually kill the Doctor, if it came to it?

Yes, he decided. Yes, he probably would.

But the Doctor backed down. Held his hands up as sarcastically as possible and took a step back. Just enough for the Master to fade back into the corners of his mind, where he could control the old bastard. He could actually feel the heat leave his face as he pulled his hand back to his desk.

He took a deep breath. Folded the layers of protection back over that part of his mind, where all the memories were. The Doctor nervously put his hands down. He could tell the Doctor didn’t want to say anything, but wanted to comfort his friend. “Master,”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, quickly. He had to press that part of himself back down again, keep Him from actually killing his only friend simply because He’d been mentioned.

The Doctor had his Worried look on his face. He sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“What’s happened to you?” the Doctor asked.

“Something good, finally,” he said in return. “I took your advice.” The Doctor looked shocked. Actually, properly, shocked. He was proud of that. “Took me some time, but all the bad bits are in the back with the old regenerations.”

“You…” the Doctor reached out for his hand. He offered it. It was good to feel the touch of another Time Lord, someone who didn’t flinch away. He wasn’t used to humans and how hot they ran, anyway. “You’re actually doing this?”

“Best I can.”

_I could fucking kill him. He dropped his guard. Stab him in the hearts and rip off bits of him when he starts to regenerate, keep it going for as long as possible-_

He pulled his hand away from the Doctor’s. The Doctor looked… sad. He wouldn’t have recognized that a few years ago, last regeneration, not since the Academy. But the Doctor quickly adjusted and wiped the look off his face.

_Just like me._

He held his head in his hands.

“Kos?” the Doctor leaned over the desk. Pulled his hands off his head. He recoiled from the touch. Felt everything creeping up in his head again, pulling at him.

_One fucking shot._

He stood up.

_This would all be over, I could turn the wife and the sister into slaves and make them repay all his debts to me._

He ran his fingers through his hair, doing anything he could to keep his hands occupied.

_Lord and Master. Lord and Master. You fucking coward, kill him!_

“No!” He collapsed to his knees, holding his head. He thought that was probably his voice. The Doctor was around the desk in a flash, next to him, squeezing him in his arms.

“Kos, listen to me,” the Doctor said. He could tell there were tears in the old man’s voice, but his eyes were so tightly closed that he couldn’t know for sure. “It’s going to be okay. We can fix this.”

_There's nothing to fix!_

“Please help me,” he said. “Doctor please, he’s stronger than I am, I can’t… I can’t…”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

“But you’re not!”

The Doctor held Koschei’s face in his hands. Waited for his eyes to open.

“A few weeks ago, I changed the future for someone I love. Do you really think I wouldn’t do the same for you?”

He felt his eyes dart away from the Doctor’s face.

_Moron._

In a split second, he grabbed the Doctor’s tie, dragged him to his feet.

_Never let your guard down._

The disintegrator was in his hand. His lips curled up into something that wasn’t a smile. It was good to see the terror on the Doctor’s face. The betrayal. To have him believe that this had all just been a ruse. It hadn’t, of course. He usually did a half decent job of keeping the madness tamped down, but it had been a long time since he’d seen the Doctor.

“Now then,” the Master said. “Last time we met, where were we?”


	8. Donna

Jack wasn’t exactly sure how the Doctor had convinced a temp agency to send someone to a coffee shop, but Donna trained quick. She could run the cash register after two minutes of being explained the general idea of it and a little bit of tampering.

But good lord was she talkative.

“You know, if you ever need something written up,” Donna said, following Jack around, “I’m a wonderful secretary. Hundred words per minute. Pretty good, eh?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jack said. He handed an espresso over the counter to a nice looking man in a suit, winking at him. The man blushed. “What’s the average?”

“Oh, a lot lower than that, handsome. And don’t think I didn’t see that wink! Is that standard? Do I need to learn how to wink? Never been able to make it work. Either I blink normally or I look like a mental patient.”

Jack turned around and took Donna by the shoulders. “Honey, I don’t think you need to worry.”

There was a loud crashing sound from outside. Jack turned to look out the bank of windows at the front. Martha was on the ground, rubbing her forehead. Rose stepped past her and opened the door. It was a pull door.

“Oh, Blondie’s cute,” Donna said.

“Yeah, and she’s the owner’s wife, so stay out of it,” Jack lectured. Alex slipped out from behind the counter to help Martha up.

“Sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

“I’ve got plenty of options.” Jack winked at Donna this time, and rushed back to the cash register. Rose sprinted behind the counter and drew him into a hug.

“Help me,” Rose said. Jack held her tighter.

“What happened?”

“The Doctor, he said he’d come back and he didn’t, and I didn’t tell anyone right away and now he might be dead-”

“Rose, calm down.”

Donna pried Jack off of Rose. “Let me handle this, eh?” she said. She grabbed Rose by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Man troubles? I’ve been there sweetheart, trust me, it’ll be alright in the end.”

“Donna, it’s a bit more than that,” Jack said.

“Well, fill me in, then!”

Martha crumpled into a chair at one of the closer tables. Jack carefully led Rose to one of the other chairs, and sat down with them. Donna grabbed a few coffees and claimed the fourth chair.

“Three ladies and the world’s flirtiest man,” Donna said, handing one of the coffees to Rose. “We can figure this out.”

“It’s more complicated than you think,” Martha sighed. “I don’t understand all of it.”

“It’s not like we’re having a row,” Rose said, nervously. “He’s been abducted, or something, oh, I don’t know…”

“Call the police!” Donna demanded.

Rose laughed extremely nervously. “Because they’d do something about the bloody Prime Minister?”

“Your husband’s been kidnapped by the Prime Minister? Prime Minister Saxon?”

“Long story,” Martha said. She took a sip of her coffee and leaned back. “Apparently they’re all aliens.”

“Guilty as charged,” Jack said, smirking.

“You’re human,” Rose sighed.

“Not really.”

Donna stood up, taking her coffee. “Messing with the new employee, eh? Classy.” She started to walk back to the counter, but Jack caught her wrist.

“We’re not, Donna. Sit back down. This is Rose, and this is Martha. Martha, Rose, this is Donna.”

“Charmed,” Donna said. She lifted her coffee mug in a toast and drank another sip. “But if I were you, I’d admit you’re pulling my leg right now before I decide you’re all crazy. Come on. The Prime Minister, an alien? Next you’re going to be telling me you’re immortal.”

Rose and Jack exchanged a glance. Martha sat up straighter.

“Seriously?” Martha sighed.

Jack leaned in, conspiratorially. “Let’s start from the beginning.”


End file.
